The Twenty-Seven Worst Things About Facts
by windthroughtheleaves
Summary: Sonja Matthews is the new intern replacing Daisy Wick, and even though she's been working to become a forensic scientist for four years, she can't seem to do her job exactly right, and she blames the facts. Note: Rated T because murders can be nasty. It's probably fine.
1. Chapter 1

1 (one).

Facts rarely have anything to do with your situation. My speculation is that many people form their decisions based on emotional reasoning, instead of factual reasoning.

Logic, and usually common sense as well, is often better for making decisions than "feelings" (which are actually chemical reactions to external stimuli). Of course, common sense (which I have found to be rare, coincidentally) is synonymous with "judgment," and logic is synonymous with "reasoning," which are two different things.

However, my opinion remains that facts are not very often relative, since the actions (and decisions) are traced back to people's emotions, not facts.

* * *

On my first day at the Jeffersonian Institute, I tried as much as I could to be very low-risk. I didn't speak to anyone, as a precaution in case I was forbidden to talk to one group of people or another. I didn't touch anything, and I moved slowly and cautiously.

I was replacing another intern who had been fired for her excessive excitement and eager-to-please manner. It was not rational to have the same behavior that had made her presence in the lab undesirable.

I made observations, of course. The woman I would be working with, Dr Brennan, was obviously very intelligent, as well as respected. Each of the employees at the Jeffersonian were respected.

That was as far into psychology as I would and could go.

I was studying forensic sciences, not psychology.

The first thing I had to do was check in at the front. The man at the front desk handed me my card and a lab coat after I showed him my driver's license that confirmed my identity as Sonja Matthews.

Once the yellow and blue badge, which read INTERN, was pinned to the coat, I followed the directions (which he had said both quickly and quietly) to the lab.

The body was laid out on one of the tables, which was lit underneath and gave a bluish tint to the bones. I was glad that they'd cleaned them off already, because I was not good with skin and eyeballs. Flesh was fine, bones were fine, but eyeballs and skin made them seem too human to me. I worked better if I didn't sympathize.

I also didn't like maggots or most bugs unless they were in containers of some sort, but for an entirely different reason.

Careful not to touch the remains, I leaned slightly over the table. The skull had fractures along the front caused by blunt force trauma - likely the cause of death, because all other fractures and anomalies weren't in places where they would have caused too much damage. Most were injuries that I or someone I knew had had, broken tibia, fractured ulna, and there were some fractures on the carpals of the person's right hand, likely defensive wounds, except for the broken tibia. The leg wouldn't usually be broken in self defense.

"So, Miss Matthews, what do you make of it?" Dr Saroyan, who had come up behind me, asked.

"I would say at the moment that this person was killed by blunt force trauma to the skull," I pointed at the fractures, showing her what I meant, "and the rest of the fractures are defensive wounds."

I looked up at her, and only then noticed the other woman at her side. Dr Brennan.

Despite the fact that Dr Brennan was a famous author, I only recognized her because I had attended a lecture of hers two years ago. I remembered it still because I had gone home ten minutes before it ended to vomit. I had had the stomach flu, and after that, my cousin Felix had forced me to stay home for a week.

"Have you determined the gender, Miss Matthews?" Dr Brennan asked me.

A test. Wonderful.

"Female..." I trailed off. I was not very good at determining the gender of a skeleton. I wasn't good at comparing the pelvis to a mental image of a male or female pelvis to see if it matched. If you gave me two skeletons, I could tell you if they were the same gender or not, but otherwise, I relied on facial indicators, which I was only slightly better at.

"You don't sound certain."

"Female." I tried.

Dr Brennan frowned a little bit, like she wasn't entirely satisfied by my response.

My next test was with Dr Hodgins.

"You're studying to be a forensic scientist, right?" he asked me. I suddenly wondered how much these people knew about me.

"Right." I nodded.

"Well, then, what kind of bug is this?" He held up jar with what looked like a fly in it.

"A fly. I don't know. I'm not an entomologist, Dr Hodgins. A forensic scientist applies a broad spectrum of sciences to solving crimes, and I haven't worked with entomology yet. Besides, I despise maggots. And spiders. And bees. Bees. I'm allergic to bees. Bees are bad."

I failed that one, too.

My third and final test was with Angela.

"So, you're Daisy Wick's replacement, right Sonja?"

"Yes." I replied.

"I felt a little bit sorry for her when she got fired. I mean, she was really excited about this job, and it was a little bit mean to fire her for it"

I'm not sure if this applies only to me, but I realized that I really didn't feel like talking about how sorry I was that she got fired, because it gave me an opportunity to get this job. It felt awkward, if anything, and I had to turn off the scientific part of my brain to fake emotions for Daisy, since I didn't want to let the real emotions through.

"Yep..." I said, popping the 'p'.

I think I passed zero of todays tests.

I'll have to do better on my next day in the lab.

* * *

By the time I actually got home, Felix had already dropped off Millie, his daughter. Since Felix travels a lot, whenever he has a business trip, he lets Millie into my house and gets on his stupid plane to fly off to some tropical island or England or France, without giving me any warning, because he has a grudge against his ex-wife.

Two years ago, when Millie was three, I agreed to watch her when he needed to leave because at that point, I highly doubted that Valerie, Millie's mother, was going to be able to watch her. But now Millie is five, capable of walking around and destroying things.

Felix has a girlfriend who could watch her, except that Felix takes his girlfriend with him, so I'm still stuck with Millie.

Who destroys things.

Especially when I'm not there.

When I open the door, Millie is standing on the table, poking at the light above it with what used to be part of the blinds on the front window.

"Seriously?" I asked her, grabbing her waist and setting her on the floor.

"Yes, Aunt Sonja. Your apartment is horribly tidy, and the light wouldn't turn on, so I fixed it," Millie responded in a tone that matched one that my aunt had used when she first saw it.

Millie even used the exact same words, except she added the "aunt" part before "Sonja."

I glared at her, and she grinned at me.

"Macaroni for dinner. Don't complain." I told her. She pouted. I knew for certain that she hated macaroni, which is why I kept some in my cupboards at all times.

Once dinner was on the table, Millie asked the worst question she could have asked.

"How was work today?"

I glared at her again.

"Failure, failure, failure," Millie started to sing.

I really do hate my family.


	2. Chapter 2

2 (two).

Even when facts are relevant, people will often choose to ignore them.

_"There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact." _  
_ - Arthur Conan Doyle  
_

The truth is that people will believe what they want to believe. They can and will manipulate the truth, and facts are part of the truth.

If you spend two minutes at an event and you sleep for one minute, you did sleep half the time, correct?

* * *

Interesting fact: Humans and giraffes have the same number of bones in their necks.

This guy... did not have the right number of bones.

He only had six. C3 was missing.

I promised myself that I would do better. Today's problem: Dr Brennan doesn't believe me.

"That's not possible, all humans have seven bones in their necks." Dr Brennan spoke. Booth paced behind her.

"Hey, theory, he's not human! Let's go, Bones."

"I'm serious." I told her, "I have C1, C2, C4, C5, C6, and C7, but no C3."

At that point I really wanted to yell at her.

"Well you're wrong, look again!" She was starting to shout.

I looked at her, working to keep a straight face, and then I turned off the screen, not caring at the moment that it was rude and might get me fired.

The neck was incomplete, mind you. C3 was missing, and I was right, but I looked over the bones again anyways.

My discovery: the murderer took the neck bone after he'd killed the man and striped the flesh from his bones with a knife of some sort. He had done a pretty good job at it, too, because the bones were hardly damaged at all, except for nicks on his right humerus and clavicle.

And of course the skull, which had a bullet through the forehead - likely the cause of death.

The bullet had been removed, so I didn't have that to confirm any theories as to how he had died, but the bullet was probably shot from a distance, as it didn't get too far through his head, or else it was a stab wound, which was extremely unlikely.

"Hey."

It was Hodgins.

"You got any particulates?"

I looked up at him.

"No," I said, "Unless you want to look for whatever made this," I lifted up the skull and pointed to the supposed bullet hole, "or these."

I gestured to the nicks in the humerus and clavicle.

Hodgins nodded, taking the skull, and tilted his head the slightest bit.

"Right."

A few minutes later, he returned.

"You up for doing an experiment?" he asked me.

"No," I replied, "I don't need another thing for Dr Brennan to hold against me."

"Why?"

_Because Dr Brennan blames me for missing bones._

"There's a missing bone, and Dr Brennan thinks I'm the one who lost it."

"Oh." He paused for a minute. "So can you help me with the experiment?"

I sighed. "What're we doing?"

* * *

Apparently, what we were doing was setting fire to a skeleton made of I - don't - know - what with some type of meat covering it.

We were trying to find out how long the body had been heated.

The experiment would be stopped when the "body" was cooked to the same level it would have been when the murderer had removed the flesh. We started by leaving it for ten minutes before I checked the foot - it would have taken just a few more minutes. So we started it up again for three minutes before I checked it again.

The only thing I felt was a cold sensation in my right arm, before I was shoved back and everything went black.

Dr Saroyan told me that the "bone" caught fire again and basically exploded, burning my arm and my cheek, both of which were covered, but I assumed looked a bit blackened. It hurt like someone had cut open my arm and set fire to my blood.

Day 1: I fail three tests.

Day 2: I burn my arm severely enough to keep me out of work for a few days.

I'm awesome at this failing stuff.

* * *

Felix was back in America, by the way. Millie wasn't in my apartment, so I didn't have to worry about coming home to another smashed vase or broken picture frames.

I did come home to broken plumbing - the kitchen sink, washer, dryer, and toilet were all broken. The kitchen and bathroom floors were covered in puddles, and the clothes I had begun washing just before leaving for work were dirtier than they were when I'd put them in.

Wonderful.

I might as well have become some sort of trouble magnet.


	3. Chapter 3

3 (three).

Facts aren't limitless. They just have limitless interpretations.

If you asked a six year old what color my car was, they'd say "green, dumbo" (a direct quote, by the way) with raised eyebrows and the look that they use when they think littler kids are stupid or when they think their parents are making a simple trip to Disneyland way too complicated.

If you asked an extremely scientific person who liked to rub knowledge into people's faces, they'd basically say "Red, orange, yellow, blue, indigo, and violet, though we perceive it as the color green because green reflects off of your car and hits our retina instead of all of the light" with a calm look like they just informed you that the first letter of the alphabet was "a."

Obviously, two different answers.

* * *

The burns on my arms healed rather quickly, and I was able to go back to work for my next day. Since I'd already made Dr Saroyan sit in the hospital because my emergency contact was in Germany and had changed his cell phone number again, I was pretty sure that I would do fairly well compared to my first couple of days.

It did go rather smoothly. The guy who was brought in died of suffocation - he'd had papers that listed complaints from customers (he made hamburgers) stuffed into his nose and mouth.

His manager killed him because he was loosing business, and Booth and Dr Brennan caught him pretty easily.

Since we solved the case, I've been helping Dr Brennan identify remains from Limbo.

"Fractured toe," I muttered, cataloging it into the museum's chart and placing the bone into a box with the rest of the remains, which belonged to a woman found in Texas.

After using this knowledge to find murderers, which made me feel like I was a little kid pretending to be a spy, it was boring to use it to sort bones.

I traded my pencil for another bone for what felt like the millionth time.

A lot of people might think that one bone is just the same as another, but that's not true. Other than the size and shape, older bones have a sort of crackly and fragile feel, while newer ones feel almost oily.

The bone I had just picked up was not nine hundred years old.

"Dr Brennan?" I asked, "There's a bone in here that's new."

"New?" Dr Brennan moved around the table to take a closer look. I handed her the bone. "Oh. Yes, this doesn't belong to the Renaissance History Department." She paused for a moment. "Search for any other bones that aren't part of this skeleton and bring them to me."

I nodded. "Yes Ma'am." I muttered once she'd left.

There were a total of 204 bones that belonged to this guy - two of the bones in his right foot were missing. He was about thirty years old, caucasian. He was 1.72 meters tall, which is about 5'8''.

How many bones did Dr Brennan want?

All 206.

5 (five).

Facts can be ignored. And the fact was that I only had access to 204 bones out of this skeleton.

"You need to find the other two bones. Last time thee was a bone missing, we found it at the crime scene - because you left it there - and you cannot let that happen twice."

She failed to mention the the bone I had "lost" was found buried more than 300 meters away from the rest of the body. More than ten feet north and four feet under ground.

Wonderful. I doubted that I was going to get to keep this job.


	4. Chapter 4 - Epilogue

6 (six).

Exaggeration.

I can't actually think of 27 things that are bad about facts. I've based by life on them and while, yes, they are not perfect, there is nothing that's really wrong with them.

I don't work at the Jeffersonian anymore. I failed to work well with Dr Brennan, and after I made three mistakes, she fired me. But I think I've lowered her standards - maybe she'll give Daisy Wick another chance.

* * *

_Dear Ms Matthews,_

_I have come to realize that while you have apparently earned the necessary credentials to work as my assistant, you lack insight and an open mind. You are not a genius, and I could not expect you to understand my work. I have written this letter to inform you that you are no longer invited to work at the Jeffersonian Institute._

_Sincerely,_

_Dr Temperance Brennan_

* * *

I found a job at the library, where I sort books and put them back on the shelves. I find it enjoyable - sometimes I keep the books in my locker before I put them back, which I'm not supposed to do (I'd have to check them out), but usually, they're textbooks that nobody would read anyways.

I also got a new apartment on the other side of the city, and I haven't told Felix where it is, so he hasn't left Millie to destroy everything yet. I'm happy about that - everything is organized alphabetically and nothing is broken. I haven't been told to call my aunt in a good two months, and my mom finally sent an apology note: _I am sorry for assuming you were trying to ruin my life - you wouldn't have made it all that much worse._

My mother is not the best at using optimism. Nor is she very good at being happy or compassionate.

I replied to Dr Brennan's letter before I left my apartment, so the return address is different than my actual address, and I haven't gotten it back yet. It was definitely not the nicest letter I've written.

_Dear Dr Brennan,_

_I have__ come to realize that while you have apparently earned the necessary credentials to work as my boss, you lack insight and an open mind. You are not a genius, and I could not expect you to understand my work. I have written this letter to inform you that you are no longer my favorite scientist and that your books are no longer on the shelves in the library._

___My cousin's daughter is excellent at destroying things._

___Additionally, I wish to ask that you learn to pretend you like people - it would bring you to a level of success that only you could never achieve. Nobody will recognize you as an authority if you accidentally change yourself into a robotic villain._

___Sincerely,_

___Sonja_

___PS - Robotic villains never have and never will take over the planet. Batman always wins._

* * *

**Note: Yes, this ended up being really short. At first, I meant for it to be 27 chapters, but I really have no more inspiration and I hope that this is a sufficient ending.**

**I had only just realized that I made Dr Brennan seem kinda mean, and I'm not sure that she would have sent Sonja a letter like that, but I thought it was funny to picture Dr Brennan reading Sonja's reply, which mirrors the letter Dr Brennan sent to fire her.**

**Again, I'm sorry that this story ended up being so short. ~windthroughtheleaves**


End file.
